Page 81 of Mrs. Endicott's Splendid Adventure
“I’ll drive you if you like,” he said. “I wouldn’t mind taking a look at the place for myself.”
Her immediate thought was that he wanted to find a good site to hide smuggled goods, or maybe black market goods, and what better than a holy island. She shook her head. “Thank you, but I’d rather be alone if you don’t mind.”
“Suit yourself.” He frowned, and she saw he was disappointed. Was it being denied her company or denied seeing the island that had produced that look?
“I’m not good company at the moment,” she added. “I’ll be back quickly.”
And without waiting for him to say any more, she hurried down the steps to the harbour and climbed into the boat, finding the key and then setting the ropes free. As she emerged from the harbour, she relished the breeze in her face. She pushed the throttle and felt the power as the boat shot forward. The sea was a pure dark blue and smooth as glass, and suddenly she was conscious of shapes in the water beside her. Two dolphins broke the surface, keeping up with her as if enjoying the fun.
“Oh,” she gasped, entranced. It was almost as if it was a sign. Maybe one of those dolphins was Dora, as she had loved to swim and had regretted that she wouldn’t be able to make it over the rocks to thebeach any longer. The dolphins kept up with the boat for a minute or two, and then they vanished again, leaving only miles of smooth blue sea. As the boat approached the island, she saw monks working in the gardens, black figures, some with cowls over their heads. That was good. She wouldn’t have to intrude too far. She eased the boat to the dock, tied it up and was halfway up the flight of steps when one of the monks loomed over her.
“No, madame. You cannot come here,” he called out. “This is a monastery. A holy place.”
“I know,” she called back. “I came to see your abbot. If he could spare me a few minutes of his time, it’s quite important.”
“He knows about this?”
“Not this visit, but he knows me. Please tell him that Ellie Endicott needs to see him.” As she spoke she came up the rest of the steps. The monk had his cowl back, and she saw he was very young—younger than her boys. She gave him an encouraging, motherly smile. He nodded, put down the hoe he had been using and walked away. Ellie sat on the bench close to the steps. Other monks kept at their tasks and did not look up. It was a pleasant place to wait. Roses climbed a trellis behind her, and the air hummed with the buzz of bees. The scent of flowers mixed with the smell of the sea below, and she listened to the gentle slap and hiss of waves on the rocks. As she sat there a bell tolled, the sound echoing out over the stillness. The monks put down their tools and headed back to the monastery. Ellie was afraid that this would mean the abbot, too, would be required at some form of service. But then she heard the slap of sandals on the sandy path, looked around and saw him coming towards her.
“I came as soon as I could,” he said. “You wanted to see me? There is an emergency?”
“Not an emergency,” Ellie said, feeling foolish now. “I’m sorry. Perhaps I shouldn’t have come, but I just needed words of wisdom, and you are the only person I know I could talk to.”
“You are in distress. I see it in your face,” he said. He sat beside her on the bench. “Are you frightened because you are now trapped here by the war?”
“I suppose I am,” she said. “Now I question my decision to remain here.”
“And now you think it is too late to depart?”
She nodded. “It is. The route north through France is now closed to me. I suppose I could make for Portugal through Spain, but what would be the point of a country where I don’t speak the language?”
“Would you rather be back in England? You miss it?”
She thought about this. “Not really. My life was comfortable there, but boring. And I had no true friends.”
“So why would you wish to go back? Because it is safer? I do not think this will be true. Hitler will want Britain more than he wants the South of France.”
Ellie nodded. “I think I know this. It was fine when I had my friends with me, but now I find myself alone,” Ellie said. And she told him about Jojo, and Dora and Mavis. “I had everything I desired, people I loved and who loved me. And one by one they have been taken away. I have this lovely big house and beautiful view but nobody to share it with. I sit down to my supper in silence. I’m afraid, I wonder what’s going to happen to me, what I’m doing here, and if I made a terrible mistake.”
He nodded. “Grief is a powerful emotion,” he said. “It consumes one. It saps the ability to see joy. And you add this to the terrible news we hear, so much suffering, the defeat of good people ... No wonder you feel lost. Even we, who have the peace and safety of the abbey, feel the great disturbance in the fabric of humanity. So what would you want me to tell you?”
“How to keep going,” she said. “No, it’s more than that. How to believe. I told you before that I’ve only gone through the motions of Christianity. I’ve never really prayed, and I’m afraid at this moment I seriously wonder if there is a God.”
“I can only tell you from my own experience, but I have to say that yes, there definitely is a power behind this universe. Call him what you will. I personally believe that he sent down his son to save us, and his son gave us the mandate to save those around us. So I think if you want to heal, you should start by doing that: reach out to others, do what you can to make their lives better. And reach out to God, too. Prayers don’t have to be elaborate things. Why don’t you start with three things you’re blessed with, three things you’re afraid of and finally three things you ask of him? And don’t forget to listen, too.”
“Listen? He talks back to you?”
“Oh yes. Not always a great voice in the silence, but sometimes I get up from my knees absolutely sure of what I have to do. Sometimes I just feel a comforting presence, that invisible hand on my shoulder saying, ‘Don’t worry, my son. I’m here with you, whatever happens.’”
“I wish I had that belief,” she said. “How I envy you.”
“Belief has to be worked at the same as any other skill,” he said. “Try practicing it. Go to church every Sunday. Let God see that you’re trying hard.” And he smiled, his eyes crinkling at the sides.
“Would it be possible to come out here and see you from time to time?” she asked.
“It depends why you wish to come,” he said. “Your real motive.”
“My motive?” She was confused.
